


Vagaries of History

by Natalya



Category: Marvel (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers - Ambiguous Fandom
Genre: Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-03
Updated: 2014-02-03
Packaged: 2018-01-11 01:13:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,924
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1166838
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Natalya/pseuds/Natalya
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Set post-Winter Soldier.  Steve has come to terms with the loss of Peggy and the Commandos and decides to read some old files.  The content of one sends him straight to Natasha for an explanation.  Bucky discovers something that rocks his world on its axis.  Angst and what may have been.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Vagaries of History

**Author's Note:**

  * For [KiyannaWhite](https://archiveofourown.org/users/KiyannaWhite/gifts).



It was late in the evening, the sun having long gone down, the streets of New York lit with neon and fluorescent lights that obscured the stars. Steve was sat at a desk up in the archive room at SHIELD, in one of the few sections that still had old paper files in secure storage. He’d finally decided to read through the old files still held from the beginnings of SHIELD. From back when Peggy had been Agent Carter and the Strategic Scientific Reserve had held the mercurial brilliance of Howard Stark. Files from after the war years, after he had ditched his plane and been frozen. 

It had taken a long time but he finally felt as though he was ready to read through those files, finally lay some ghosts to rest by learning the stories of their exploits. When he had first been brought back, he had mourned Peggy, grieving for what he had briefly had, and for all the things that he would never have with her. Then there had been the Chitauri attack on New York, he’d been called into action once again and it had been necessary, stopping him from spiralling deeper into the darkness that had been trying to gain a hold on him. He’d taken to working for SHIELD, and had ended up bringing in the Winter Soldier with Natasha. The brainwashed ex-Soviet super assassin, who had turned out to be a man he had thought long dead in a mountain ravine, the man he’d grown up with who was as close to him as a brother. 

He felt ready now, ready to read the files, to read the lives of those whom he remembered so well. He had now had a few years to grieve, to come to terms with everything, and the loss was more of a dull ache wreathed in a soft veil of nostalgia and memory. He opened the first file that he’d pulled out, one detailing the missions that Peggy had been on working in the SSR, her mission reports, neatly typed with the odd amendment in her firm, clear handwriting. The paper was yellowed, musty and old, but it still had a life to it, the words springing off the page, bringing the mission so clearly into his mind. 

Reading through he couldn’t help the smile that touched his lips, her voice springing out from the old pages, concise, so quintessentially British. He lightly traced his fingertips across the words as though he could reach out through time and touch the woman who had written them. As he finished the report he laid it aside, picking up the next one, the next mission, reading through. Steve didn’t know how long he stayed doing it, he knew only that his eyes were beginning to feel gritty, his shoulders stiff from being hunched over the desk. He glanced at the clock above the door. 3am. He silently decided to read just one more report before he left and headed back to his apartment once again. 

Steve settled himself once again, leaning back and getting as comfortable as he could. This mission was one during the war, after Bucky had plunged to his supposed death, after he had ditched his plane in the ice, while Peggy was still there, still fighting the battles that she was able as an Agent of the SSR. This time she was in a small town, not far from Berlin as the Allies and Russians marched towards the capital to take it. The Nazis were on the back foot and at that point victory seemed eventual but assured. Her role was intelligence gathering, and she had accompanied a group of the Commandos to a local bar, her knowledge of French and German invaluable.  
Steve read the familiar names, feeling a slight melancholy taking him as he did, these men, his brothers in arms, the woman he loved, still there, still fighting as he hung frozen in the ice, alone. He put the papers down for a few seconds, pinching the bridge of his nose, taking a long, slow breath. After a couple of seconds he went back to her report once again. Suddenly he stopped reading, freezing completely, his face draining of all colour. He swallowed, reading over the paragraphs once again. 

_Upon going outside I saw a woman that I had seen across the bar area earlier in the night. She had been talking to some men whom I suspected to be German Officers or Intelligence Officers trying to gain information about troop movements towards Berlin. She was quite distinctive with her very red hair and green eyes, a young woman. She was stood in the shadows and looking to gain potential information I approached her._

_She held up a hand for me to come no closer and I paused and waited. She was not, as I had first suspected German. When she spoke it was in English with no accent. She informed me that she knew I was no French Madame, nor German Fraulein. I came closer to her to question her further and she shook her head. It was then I smelled the unmistakable scent of death. Upon looking behind her I could see the dark shapes of bodies. She shook her head and laughed, told me that they had no more use._

_I asked her who she was working for and she shrugged and told me that she worked for the Russians, that she was, for the moment ironically working on the same side as the Americans. She said something in Russian at this point which I unfortunately could not translate. She gave me a long look and asked whether I was going back inside or whether I was going to help her hide the bodies. I asked her for her name and she told me that it was chornaya vdova [sic]. Upon speaking with a translator I have learnt that this is Black Widow._

_I assisted her in moving the bodies of the men. She had killed six without firing a shot. Once they had been moved I went back into the bar to meet once again with the members of my party. The other woman did not appear again in the bar. She was not there when we left._

The rest of the document went on to detail the information that she had gathered and the return to the base. It was those paragraphs though that made Steve’s head swim, feeling as though somehow history had wrapped around itself. It was too much to be simple coincidence. It was too...he couldn’t even formulate his thoughts properly at that point. He pushed himself away from the desk, feeling shaky and sick, pacing the length of the small room. 

Swiftly and deliberately he put the file away, walking out of the room, jaw set, striding away down the corridor, before leaving SHIELD HQ, heading out into the darkness of New York, bound for an apartment in Brooklyn Heights, close to his own. He took the subway, feeling a strange sensation, as though he was moving in some kind of dream, that somehow history was playing some kind of trick on him. He jogged down the street, then using his access card and codes let himself into the top floor apartment, barely pausing to knock.  
As he pushed the door open he was greeted by the muzzles of two guns pointed at him from the owner’s places on the couch. He froze in place, remembering belatedly just who it was he was bursting in on. Slowly both guns were lowered and Natasha and Bucky relaxed, stowing their weapons back wherever they had pulled them from. Knowing Natasha probably behind the sofa cushions. He closed the door behind him, walking in to the room, feeling suddenly strangely unsure. He’d come over in a haze, just wanting to ask questions, but now faced with Natasha’s questioning gaze and Bucky’s slightly amused smirk he wasn’t sure how to begin. 

Natasha broke the silence. “Don’t just stand there, come in, help yourself to a drink.” She said, gesturing towards the kitchen. “Then you can let us know why you came in in such a hurry.” 

“We’re assuming there’s no call to assemble or aliens invading the city? No doom bots or, oh I don’t know what else, but I would hope you’d got enough of a hold on technology by now not to run to each Avenger personally with the news.” Said Bucky with a lazy smile as he relaxed back on the couch, picking up his drink. 

Steve shook his head, feeling himself calming slightly as he went to the kitchen, taking a beer out of the door of the fridge and heading over to sit on the armchair by the couch. He shook his head at Bucky. “You know you’re a jerk right? My grasp of technology is just fine.” 

“And you’re a punk. Some things never change.” Replied Bucky lazily, holding his drink in one hand, the other gently rubbing Natasha’s feet where she was resting them on his lap. 

Natasha rolled her eyes. “If you two have finished your pleasantries, what is it Steve? You’re looking pale and not quite yourself.” 

Steve nodded, taking a swallow of his beer. He knew that it wouldn’t have an effect on him, but he still enjoyed it and its connotations. “I was reading through some old mission reports. Up in the archives. Things from the SSR, before it was SHIELD.” He began, leaning forward slightly, elbows resting on his knees. “I was reading ones that Peggy wrote.” 

Bucky nodded. “How’s that been going?” His voice was quiet, understanding. He knew damn well what Peggy had meant to Steve. 

“Fine. It was...it was good. I could almost hear her voice while I was reading them. And no, before you say anything I wasn’t getting maudlin. I’m past that stage now, you know that.” He said, taking a mouthful of beer, holding the bottle loosely by the neck as he let it dangle between his knees. “There was one mission that she had been on, intelligence gathering, towards the end of the war when the Western Allies and the Red Army were advancing on Berlin.” 

He broke off for a few seconds, taking a slow breath before looking at Natasha. “You were there. Weren’t you?” He asked directly, the question more of a statement. The description, the code name, it was all too much to have been a coincidence, he was certain of it. “There was a woman there who named herself as Black Widow.” 

“Black Widow was a Red Room code name, sure. But there were a lot of Widows out there at that point.” Said Bucky with a shrug, although his hand had stilled and Natasha pulled her feet free, turning to face Steve properly. 

She shook her head, getting up, walking across to the window, staring out into the darkness for a few seconds before turning back round once again. “It was not long after that the code name Black Widow became mine alone.” She stated quietly. “Yes, I was there.” 

“You met Peggy.” Said Steve softly, feeling almost as though the bottom had dropped out of his stomach, a strange hollow ache inside him. “You met her, you spoke with her. She was there with a few of the Commandos. She said that she saw you in the bar with some German Intelligence Officers…” 

Natasha nodded, still standing by the window, looking at the two men in the room. Steve glanced to Bucky, seeing the expression on his face, curious, slightly guarded. Natasha continued, her level gaze on Steve, not flinching under his regard. She was too well trained for that. Knew him too well for that. She did not flinch unless it was to her own benefit. “I was. They gave me the information that I wanted. When we went outside, they thought that it was their lucky night. They were quickly disabused of that notion. They were no longer useful and so I got rid of them.” 

“That was when Peggy came out.” Said Steve, frowning slightly. 

“It was. Although I never knew her name. That she was involved in British intelligence was enough for me to know.” Replied Natasha, sounding almost detached as she spoke, words cool and matter of fact. Steve noticed that her eyes were no longer on him, instead she was looking at Bucky, watching him instead as she spoke. Steve’s eyes flicked to Bucky, seeing how pale he had gone, looking almost grey in the face. 

Steve frowned. “Buck? What is it?” 

Bucky shook his head. “Just. Just finish whatever you’re saying.” He said quietly and Steve could hear the slight catch in his voice, watched as Natasha’s expression became more set. 

“She helped you to hide the bodies, and then you disappeared.” Said Steve softly. “Did you ever see her again? Meet her again?” 

Natasha shook her head. “No. No the operations I was involved with didn’t let my path cross hers again. Steve, believe me, if I had known that it was Peggy that night, I would have told you. I do not know how much good it would have done, but I would have told you.” She said quietly, moving away from the window, going to Bucky rather than Steve, murmuring something softly in Russian to him. 

Bucky had turned still paler, looking almost sick. Abruptly Natasha grabbed the back of his head, forcing it down between his legs. “Breathe.” She said, voice harsh. She looked at Steve who was feeling still more lost. She kept her fingers curled in Bucky’s dark hair, her other hand rubbing against his back in regular motions as he forced himself to take slow breaths. 

“I don’t know why it makes a difference.” Said Steve softly. “I just felt like I had to ask you about it, I just wanted to know, that it really was you. That you’d met her.” 

“I did.” Confirmed Natasha with a nod. 

Steve looked at Bucky who had raised his head again, resting his forehead against Natasha’s hip, his fingers curling around her calf as though anchoring himself while her fingers remained in his hair, her other hand resting on his shoulder. Steve gave Natasha a questioning look and she ran her tongue lightly across her lips as though her mouth had suddenly gone dry. Steve could almost feel the tension in the room. “Bucky was my rendezvous that night. He was waiting for me. If I hadn’t killed them, he was ready to pick them off on my word.” 

For a few seconds Steve felt as though he might be sick. The room rocked around him for a second and he felt suddenly light-headed for the second time that night. He felt a twisting of horror as he looked across at Bucky who turned his head to look at Steve. “I was her rendezvous. I was not far down the road, where the Germans had left their transport. Waiting.” He swallowed hard. “I was so close to them. Shit.” He broke off again, and Steve could see him struggling with himself in that moment. 

Natasha sighed softly. “It was our first assignment together. He had been with the Red Room for a couple of years, that was all. They were testing out their weapon, seeing just how well honed he was. I was still very young, they sent him out as my backup, a test for me. He would provide an accurate report on my effectiveness.” 

Steve felt as though he was frozen once again, cold horror slithering through him. “You were right there. So close to them. To Peggy, Falsworth, Dugan…” He fell silent, the ramifications slicing through him like knives. He could only imagine what Bucky was feeling in those moments. If he had gone into the bar, if he had been with Natasha, maybe they could have saved him. Maybe they could have brought him in, maybe he could have been saved the decades of being a weapon for the Red Room. Maybe they could have brought Natasha in with him, perhaps their ledgers wouldn’t be gushing red. 

Bucky gave a harsh, cracked laugh. “Yeah. So goddamn close. Maybe they would have brought them in, maybe I would have killed them. Damned if I know what would have happened. Maybe with those sort of variables it’s better that I didn’t meet them.” 

“I should have kept my mouth shut.” Said Steve quietly.  
Bucky shook his head, sitting up, pulling Natasha down onto his lap, holding her close, lacing their fingers together. “You couldn’t have known that.” 

“He’s right.” Natasha’s voice was soft as she agreed. “There was no way you could have known. There’s also no way that you wouldn’t have asked me about meeting Peggy. Not once you started reading the files.” 

Steve stood up, slightly jerkily as Natasha motioned for him to join them on the couch. He sat next to her and Bucky and both reached out, pulling him in close, no words needed between any of them in those moments, just softly, silently breathing together, still alive, still together. As they sat up Bucky nodded. “Natasha’s right. Besides, we’re all here now. That’s what matters.” His voice was still rough, Steve could hear that, and he knew damn well that neither Bucky or Natasha would sleep that night. 

He swallowed, not letting go of either of them. “That’s what matters.” He echoed softly. 

The End.


End file.
